“I, John Boland, am a business man. I stand on my record. I defy Miss Mary Randall—”
In pausing to formulate his thoughts, he became conscious that Miss Masters had not been taking his dictation; that she had laid an envelope on his desk directly in front of where he usually sat, and that she was putting on her hat.
“Here, hold on!” he cried peremptorily. “What does this mean, Miss Masters?”
“It means, Mr. Boland,” she replied quietly, as she adjusted a hat pin, “that I have resigned. Good day.”
When she started to leave Boland called out to her in amazement:
“Here—wait—why do you resign?”
“That letter on the desk will tell you,” she said as she moved through the doorway. “Good day.”
John Boland picked up the letter and opened it. He was dazed as he read aloud:
“I refuse to lend my aid to the owners of vice property. Mary Randall.”
Boland stared into space, while Harry exclaimed: